Fore note: If I could describe myself using one word, there would be many different words that would come to mind: Empathetic, Worrywart, Perfectionist, Hyper-active, Unfocused, Hype-man, Attention-seeking, curiosity.
Patience would not be one of those words. If there is anything about me, it's that I'm interested in anything and everything, all the time. To me, every second 'wasted' is a second lost forever, another tick in the timer towards the day I inevitably have to schedule my appointment with The Great Rockstar Death and move into my apartment at room 9.5867873 * 10 ^ 96. So, my personal philosophy is that I need to make absolutely every second count.
Which makes the lack of focus I tend to have even more painful. Whenever I try to do something, I'm easily distracted by something else. My mind tends to wander, to the point that it's difficult for me to focus on doing one exact thing for more than a few minutes. Whenever I try to get work done, I'm distracted, whenever I'm trying to write, I get distracted, whenever I try to read, I get distracted. It's a vicious cycle of becoming determined to get my work done, then at once getting distracted, which makes me feel even worse.
But I promise, this story will get done, it won't go unfinished like Brave New World. I will make sure that it's finished, and you aren't left hanging for the rest of eternity.
With that out of the way, it's time to delve into somewhere that is not normal for the average Pokémon Fic.
Pokémon Mystery Dungeon
Guiding Light:
Dreaming a Liminal Catharsis
Act 2, Verse 2: A Cold Welcome to a Dark Soul
This is the story of a man named Shane.
Shane worked for a company in a big building where he was Employee #413.
Employee #413's job was simple: he sat at his desk in Room 413, and he pushed buttons on a keyboard.
Orders came to him through a monitor on his desk telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.
This is what Employee #413 did every day of every month of every year, and although others may have considered it soul rending,
Shane relished every moment that the orders came in, as though he had been made exactly for this job.
And Shane was happy.
And then one day, something very peculiar happened.
Something that would forever change Shane.
Something he would never quite forget.
He had been at his desk for nearly an hour when he had realized not one single order had arrived on the monitor for him to follow.
No one had shown up to give him instructions, call a meeting, or even say 'hi'. Never in all his years at the company had this happened, this complete isolation.
Something was very clearly wrong. Shocked, frozen solid, Shane found himself unable to move for the longest time.
But as he came to his wits and regained his senses, he got up from his desk and stepped out of his office.
"What the hell is going on?"
Shane was confused. He didn't work at an office, he supposedly presumed. However, as far he should have been concerned, he had worked at the office his whole life.
"What? No, I haven't! I was living in a world of Pokémon for like, four years!"
Now Shane really was becoming delusional, pretending that he had been in some far-off make-believe Wonderland for almost half a decade. Yes, surely Shane would recognize that this office was reality and start continuing the story.
"Story? What are you talking about? And who are you anyway?!"
Shane must have obviously gone mad. Now he was pretending to hear voices, when he was clearly all alone in his office building. He obviously had to go find his boss, he'd know what to do and how to help him. He kept going towards the meeting room.
"Are you even listening to me? That's it, I'm leaving."
As I said, he kept going towards the meeting room, with that pesky exit in front of him slamming shut, locking up tight, then promptly ceasing to ever exist. After all, there had never even been a door there in the first place.
"Fine. You want me to play along, I'll play along."
Ah, there he goes. Now, as I was saying: Ah hem.
As Shane walked through his office, he found that all the desks were empty. All his co-workers were gone. What could it all mean? Shane decided to go to the meeting room; perhaps he had simply missed a memo.
Soon enough, Shane came to an impasse: a set of 2 open doors. Naturally, as the meeting room was on the left, he entered the door on his left.
This was not the correct way to the meeting room, and Shane knew this fact perfectly well. Perhaps he wanted to stop by the employee lounge first, just to admire it.
Alright, admiring over. Shane entered the door on the left and got right back on track.
I said the door on the left.
"I dunno, this room that says Storage Room seems pretty inviting."
Shane was obviously not willing to grow up today.
Shane suddenly remembered his boss' famous words, "Shane, there's a time and a place for mucking about!" and so he quickly stopped fooling around and got back on track, since he should know what was good for him.
"Was that an insult and a threat? Threatening me isn't really a good way to motivate me to do what you say."
As Shane walked into the next door, he was surprised to find a secret, one way entrance into the meeting room! How very fortunate for such a clumsy and empty-headed man such as him!
"How in the world did you even do that?"
Yet there was not a single person here either.
Feeling a wave of disbelief, Shane decided to go up to his boss's office, hoping he might find an answer there.
Coming to a staircase, Shane walked upstairs to his boss's office.
"And now we're going this way."
Stepping into his manager's office, Shane was once again stunned to discover not an indication of any human life.
"I can see that, why are you pointing that out?"
What could it mean, he wondered. Desperate for answers, he began turning the room over, looking for clues that might unravel the situation, until at last, he discovered a keypad behind the boss's desk. But alas, no code. For this keypad guarded the terrible secret that lay buri
Beep
What.
How did you
"1234 isn't a really secure code, idiot. Found it in the desk drawer while you were writing your soliloquy"
Fine.
Here's the door, just go.
"Thank you."
Descending deeper into the building, Shane realized he felt a bit peculiar. It was a stirring of emotion in his chest, as though he felt freer to think for himself, to question the nature of his job. Why did he feel this now, when for years it had never occurred to him? This question would not go unanswered for long.
"I know you're just messing with me. If you think I'm going to just play along with your game, you're mistaken. If anything, I feel less free than ever with you forcing me to do whatever it is you want."
The lights rose on an enormous room packed with television screens.
What horrible secret did this place hold, Shane thought to himself. Did he have the strength to find out?
"Yes."
Now the monitors jumped to life, their true nature revealed.
Each bore the numbers of an employee in the building, Shane's co-workers.
The lives of so many individuals reduced to images on a screen, and Shane, one of them, eternally monitored in this place where freedom meant nothing.
This mind control facility... It was too horrible to believe; it couldn't be true.
"I'm sorry, did you say, 'Mind control facility'?"
Had Shane really been in someone's control all this time? Was this the only reason he was happy with his boring job?
That his emotions had been manipulated to accept it blindly?
No! He refused to believe it. He couldn't accept it, his own life in someone else's control. Never!
"Look who's calling the kettle black, Mr. Railroad Expert."
And as the cold reality of his past began to sink in, Shane decided that this machinery would never again exert its terrible power over another human life.
For he would dismantle the controls once and for all.
And when at last he found the source of the room's power, he knew it was his duty, his obligation, to put an end to this horrible place and to everything it stood for.
"You know what? I'm pressing the 'Take Control' button, just to mess with you. I don't care what happens, as long as it gets me away from you, I'm okay with it."
Beep
WARNING WARNING
Oh Shane, you didn't just activate the controls, did you?
After they kept you enslaved all these years you go and you try to take control of the machine for yourself, is that want you wanted? Control?
"What are you saying?"
Oh...Shane. *sigh* I applaud your effort, I really do, but you need to understand; there's only so much that you can do.
You were supposed to let go, turn your controls off, and finally be free.
If you want to throw our story off track, you're going to have to do much better than that. I'm afraid you don't have nearly the power you think you do; for example, and I believe you'll find this pertinent:
Shane suddenly realized that he had just initiated the network's emergency detonation system. In the event that this machine was activated without proper DNA identification, the nuclear detonators were set to explode, reducing the entire complex to dust.
"WHAT"
How long until detonation, then? Hmm...let's say, about...five minutes.
"Oh Sh
WARNING WARNING
NUCLEAR DETONATION IN T-MINUS 3 MINUTES
Ah, now this is making things a little more fun, isn't it, Shane? It's your time to shine! You are the star! It's your story now; shape it to your heart's desires.
"Oh god, oh god!"
Ooh, this panicked struggle is so much better than what I had in mind! What a shame we have so little time left to enjoy it.
Mere moments until the bomb goes off, but what precious moments each one of them is! More time to talk about you, about me, where we're going, what this all means...I barely know where to start!
"Can you stop monologuing for a second?! C'mon, c'mon! What do I do? Focus, Shane!"
What's that? You'd like a moment of solace before you're obliterated?
Alright. I'm in a good mood, and you're going to die anyway. I'll tell you exactly what happened to you: I brought you in here. Took control so that you could be free.
I have to say, though, these events have been rather amusing. Watching you try to make sense of everything and take back the control that was wrested away from you...it's quite rich. I almost hate to see you go!
"Screw you, dude! I'm not really in the mood to talk!"
My goodness! Only a minute left...but I'm enjoying this so much! You know what? To hell with it. I'm going to put some extra time on the clock; why not! Think of it as a gift.
Those are precious additional seconds, Shane. Time doesn't grow on trees!
"Come on, where's some kind of off button?"
Oh, dear me, what's the matter, Shane? Is it that you have no idea where you are going or what you're supposed to be doing right now? Or did you just assume when you saw that timer that something in this room is remotely capable of turning it off?
I mean, look at you, running from button to button, screen to screen, pressing every little thing in this room like an ignorant, headless chicken! These numbered buttons! No! These colored ones! Or maybe this big, red button! Or these levers! Everything! Anything! Something here will save me!
"I don't care, just shut up! I'm not dying here!"
Why would you think that, Shane? That this little game can be beaten, won, solved, survived? Do you have any idea what your purpose in this place is, you ignorant buffoon?
Hahaha, heh, if so, Shane...you're in for quite a horrible disappointment.
"SHUT UP!"
But here's a spoiler for you: that timer isn't a catalyst to keep the action moving along. It's just seconds ticking away to your death.
You've only been allowed to keep struggling instead of being forced to wait for the inevitable because I want to watch you for every moment that you're powerless, to see you despair for every desperate second you have left.
This is not a challenge. It's a tragedy. You wanted to rule the world; that's fine. So, I'm going to destroy it first, so you can't.
"SHUT THE HELL UP!"
Take a look at the clock, Shane. That's 30 seconds you have left to struggle.
Thirty seconds until a big boom, and then nothing. No salvation here, just you getting blown to pieces.
Will you cling desperately to your frail life, or will you let it go peacefully?
Another choice! Make it count. Or don't. It's all the same to me. All a part of the joke. And believe me, I will be laughing at every second till your inevitable death, from the moment you fade out until the moment I say: Happily, Ever, Af-
10
"You know what? SCREW THIS!"
9
Clang
8
Wait! What are you doing?
7
"Ending this stupid story!"
6
Clang
Bang
5
Stop! Those are very sensitive controls! I spent weeks making them!
4
Crack
Crash
Bang
3
STOP THAT! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW IMPORTANT THOSE ARE!?
2
CLANK
CRACK
KRSH
SMASH
1
I COMMAND YOU TO STOP, SHANE!
STO
O
O
O
O
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Have a nice day.
Shane…
Shane…
Shane, can you hear me?
C'mon, wake up…
Today's a very big day,
And you'll miss it all if you're asleep, sleepy pants…
There you are…
Good morning, Sunshine…
Shane woke up to the worst headache. His mind was filled with TV static, as if his brain had been turned to lime gelatin. He couldn't see or hear anything at the moment, his senses completely discombobulated by an onslaught of colors and sounds, similar to the view someone would get if they rubbed their closed eyes a bit too hard. His entire body felt sore and weak, like he'd just been repeatedly punched point blank by a Machamp. At the moment, all he could do was blink his eyes and hope the pain stopped.
"Uggghhh, I'm up," Shane groaned, rubbing his eyes with his paws, "give me five mor-"
All at once, Shane jolted awake with two realizations.
First, those were not the limbs he was used to waking up with. Everything was off about them. The colors were off, as they were a strange neon cyan mix instead of the light sky blue his coat usually shined, the pale hue glowing faintly like it had some sort of Bioluminescence. The appearance of his paws was off as well, they felt far too... flexible. And... were those thumbs? They weren't a human's hands, either; humans usually didn't have only three fingers and a thumb, especially fingers that were that pointed and clawed.
Secondly, this was definitely not on the Horizon Continent. All around him he could see nothing but a strange, blue mist, which was probably the reason he had been temporarily blinded. It felt cold on his skin, but in a... strangely relaxing way? Even after four years of living in the Horizon Continent, he still hadn't ever become accustomed to the cold, despite being an Ice Type; yet here he was in some strange tundra, not even shivering or getting frostbite.
But that wasn't important right now; what was more important, was Tessa was nowhere to be found.
"What the actual hell?" Shane whimpered, the events of last night slowly returning to his mind. The entire world felt almost sideways, the feeling of being alone slowly sinking in. Shane, unwilling to stay in one place, slowly pushed himself upright.
In an attempt to reorient himself, Shane tried to stand up straight, only to feel a sharp pain in his back as he tried to stand on all fours as he was used to.
"Ahh!"
Shane slumped back down, before he turned around and started rubbing his spine, desperately trying to ease his aching back. A small bit of sadness suddenly twinged through his mind as he discovered that his beloved nine fluffy tails were no longer there, now replaced by a long, fluffly, rat like tail. There was also a bit of confusion at what looked to be a... large cape, of some kind. To be fair, it looked less like a cape, and more like some sort of headress or veil. It made him feel like a bride at a wedding.
Shane turned back to look at the front of his body to assess his new shape. His legs were far shorter than normal, less like actual legs, and more like nubs. Strangely enough, this didn't seem to hamper his stance. His stomach was also had a key difference compared to the rest of his body, the skin being patterned with a strange, blue sigil. While he wasn't completely sure, he felt around his neck a strange comfort, like the scruff that his Ninetales form had had. He was 74 percent sure that it was some type of mane. However, Shane suddenly realized that there was something very crucial to him that he needed to make sure was still there before going any further.
Shane put one of his hands to his chest, feeling across his body, sometimes tapping his chest with a claw as he went. Strangely enough, his body didn't feel furry at all, the softness of his vulpine form absent. Instead, his skin had a weirdly unique texture that was hard to accurately define. On one hand, he found no real hair as he ran his paw across it, instead feeling a strangely smooth, yet plush texture, as if he was running his paws across velvet. On the other hand, whenever he applied pressure, his paw seemed to simply sink into the flesh with no resistance in the slightest, to the point where he probably could sink his both of his arms inside without any issues. It wasn't a liquid, however, there was a clear indentation wherever his claws pressed against the skin; it was more like some form of blubbery rubber or putty, his body seemingly conforming around his paws. His curiosity was interrupted by a faint, ringing plink as one of his claws hit something hard near the top of his chest just below the mane on his neck. There was a small respite of relief that swept through Shane as he repeatedly tapped his claws against his core prism to make sure it was actually there and not just his imagination playing tricks on him. Losing that would've been like losing his heart, because it literally was his heart.
However, this did not soothe his growing unease and confusion enough to ease his stress in any noticeable form.
Changing strategies in terms of locomotion, Shane tried to stand on his two lower feet instead. For a few seconds, he stumbled and was blown back by the high winds as if he was juggling on a unicycle, but with each moment he wobbled, the motions of the stance slowly became natural, as they had been years before.
As Shane actually took in his surroundings, he was able to confirm his suspicion:
I am definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Wait, what am I thinking? I never even went to Kansas as a human!
His entire field of view was covered with shimmering blue dust. Shane really wasn't sure if this stuff was snow or dust. To be honest, it was less like actual snow and more like the blue tint of the ocean, or maybe one of those Blueberry Slushies that Shane used to see at the 7/11 near his home, that he was 67% sure had a polar bear mascot. The 'snow' circled around him and painted the scenery as if he were looking at a frozen desert. He could feel a powerful cold breeze on his face, the frost blowing right in his face, filling the land with a deafening wind.
"Tessa?" Shane called out into the tundra, hoping for a response.
The only response was the storm around him.
"Tessa? Where are you?"
Still nothing.
Shane's breath became shallow and frantic, the growing anxiety slowly worming its way through his mind, resurfacing some of his old, undesirable habits.
Shane held his left paw up to one of his cheeks.
He had to know.
"Please, let this be a nightmare."
He slowly pressed the finger down, feeling the point of a tiny claw on his skin, before dragging it across his face.
He let out a loud yelp of pain as a burning sensation scraped across his face, causing him to yank the claw out at once. He held a paw up to his cheek; while he hadn't drawn blood, the scratch still felt warm and sent small waves of a slight, stinging pain across his right cheek.
The stress was finally too much to bear, Shane's breath became shaky, he felt adrenaline burn through his body, small shivers shaking through his body. Shane started pacing across the fields of sand, blinking dust from his eyes as he went. As he paced, he tried to reorientate himself. He needed to make sure that he wouldn't give in to his anxiety, so laying out his situation seemed like a good distraction.
Okay, currently, I have no idea where I am, nor what I am.
I have no clue how I got here, why I became like this, and how in the world I could ever get back home.
Overall, not the best situation...
It wasn't like this was the first time this had happened to Shane. It was how he had first met Tessa and gone on an adventure to save the world. However, while before, when Shane hadn't fully understood how traumatizing being a hero was, he had thought it was a dream come true. Now, the thought of losing the world he had grown to love was not something he was comfortable with. At least before, he'd had at least some form of familiarity with his new world, regardless of how he eventually realized how flawed his understanding had been compared to that of the actual Pokémon world. Here, he didn't even have a vague idea of where or what he was.
Yeah, this isn't working. Shane realized. Trying to figure out his situation was only making his anxiety worse. He needed to stop focusing on his situation and find a different way to try and calm his nerves.
As Shane trekked through the windy dunes of snow; he saw what seemed to be a clearing. Curious, he slowly trudged towards through the almost blinding amounts of dust...
Before nearly falling to an untimely demise. Shane felt his heart nearly burst out from his chest as one of his feet found no footing, instead hovering right over the ledge of a sudden cliff of what seemed to be at least a 60-foot drop. He fell backwards onto his rump from the shock, unconsciously holding his breath from the stress. Confirming he was on solid ground; he heaved a sigh of relief. As the shock slowly subsided, Shane eyes slowly focused less on the blowing ice around him and towards the land below...
Before Shane let out a quiet gasp.
If the view of the sunrise on the Pokémon world was an art piece, what he was seeing was more like the masterpieces of Pablo Picasso.
The surrounding 'seas' below was awash with white, cyan and gold, with the strange liquid like gasses below painting the scenery as if he was looking upon a vast sea of ice cream. A mighty, cold gale paved waves and tsunamis over the shimmering ocean. The light that reflected off the clouds of mist above made it glisten and sparkle like stars.
Across the vast ocean of blossoming cyan, there were towers of wind bursting from the mist, the gigantic tornados sweeping across the skyline in a breathtaking dance.
As Shane looked towards the horizon, he noticed that the skyline that was visible between the wind, clouds and snow was pitch black, the sky colored as black as freshly cut and whittled onyx. The vast expanse was seemingly endless in depth, to the point that Shane was almost positive that if he dared try to look directly up, he might have gained an idea of how it felt to gaze upon infinity. The only saving grace his eyes had from going completely and utterly mad at the blindingly dark sight was the concealing winds of ice, as well as the glittering landmarks of stars and nebulae that weaved throughout the cosmos, which mercifully obscured most of the endless abyss from view. The lovely twinkles glittered in every color imaginable: from scarlet flames of red, to marmalade, citrusy blinks of orange, to a gleaming rhapsody of yellow, to the vibrant shining glow of green, to a briny, bright salting of navy blue, to the deepest, yet loveliest shades of indigo, to the blossoming of a soothing shade of violet, and to the mighty, gleaming diamonds of white. However, these little flakes of glitter paled in comparison to the much more lovely and mighty art pieces that swirled both high above Shane's field of vision: the vast swathes of faintly glimmering gas and dust that painted the sky, the glistening opaque curtains of auroras, the faint shapes of streaking comets, and lightning veins that stretched out to cosmic proportions.
There was more to the scenery than just pretty sights, however. It was subtle at first: nearly inaudible noises that Shane had just thought to be auditory hallucinations, the faint scratch of a claw, a single click nearly inaudible over the soft winds, perhaps a nonuniform crunching beneath the near cacaphony of the blustering ice.
But as he paid more attention, Shane's ears started to adjust, soon tuning out the background noise of the winds and snowstorm. More pronounced, quieter noises started becoming obvious: a faint rumbling from beneath the tundra, and a nearly silent cracking noise.
No shapes yet, but enough to confirm the noises were a reality, to show that this world was not simply an empty scenery.
Looking at it almost made Shane forget about all his worries.
Almost.
Right, still got to find Tessa. Shane remembered. He'd have time to ponder his surroundings later. Tessa might be in danger.
Who was he kidding, it was Tessa. He was more worried about her getting upset at him for the battle that had possibly sent them here. He knew he probably should have used his full power during the fight, but he'd been worried about accidentally causing a huge explosion, so he'd been limiting himself to a fraction of his energy.
Besides, Ephermeris had warned him more than once that overexerting his powers too often ran the risk of the build-up of impurities in his core overtime. Ultra-Space did not need a sequel to Necrozma, Devourer of Light.
Shane suddenly stopped mid thought, suddenly remembering why the thing they had fought had scared him so much.
The thing had had multiple things that were alarming:
One, it somehow had access to actual military weapons, as in weapons from his original world, which should have been impossible, since Earth had been violently blown up.
Two, it had a Prism Core itself, just like Shane's. Shane had been told about Lightless Blacks, which were similar in power to him, but they all looked about the same as him: four winged dragons which shined a brilliant gold. While Shane had learned there was the occasional outlier, with some shining silver and others still having their black armor in their ultra-burst form, he was pretty sure that they didn't look like they were a militarized version of the whale from Pinocchio.
It didn't seem to be an Ultra Beast either, a Beast of that sort of size and ferocity would have been tagged by the Ultra Recon Squad before Shane had even become Dark Matter. And even then, it shouldn't have been that resilient toward him and Tessa while they were both Ultra-Bursting.
Even the idea of that beast somehow being a remnant of the Prisma Virus didn't make sense; when Shane had hit the reset button on the planet, he'd made sure to remove all traces of the infection and revive anyone who had died due to said infection. Nicky himself had even given him information on everything he needed to bring back when he blew up the sun.
The thing, as far as Shane was concerned, didn't fit into any exact explanation. It wasn't a Lightless Black, nor an Ultra-Beast, not even an infected Pokémon. It was an anomaly, something that didn't look like a Necrozma, yet...
Still...
Had...
a...
Core...
Shane stopped mid contemplation, suddenly coming to an epiphany. He brought his claw onto his stomach and tapped his Prism Core again to make sure it was actually still there. Once again, a soft, ringing clink sounded out as he tapped against the crystalline surface.
Shane stared at his claws in abject horror at the realization, the relief he had previously at still having his core now had started to transform into a terrifying thought.
Just like I am.
Along the lonely shores the tepid waves break,
The dawn soon sinking behind the black lake,
The shadows lengthen and old fears strengthen
In these Forgotten Lands.
Strange is the world where stars never rise,
And stranger shapes dance throughout endless skies
But strangest is here, where all reason dies
In these Foreboding Lands.
The songs our mother each morning would sing,
Which warmed our hearts and made life spring,
Now die unsung, as her choir now hung
In these Forbidden Lands.
The light in my soul, now shattered and dead,
Fades to ash in the cold, now filled with dread.
Yet in endless pain and hate we remain
In these Forsaken Lands.